


My Garden Of Eden

by Linneus



Series: SterekWeek2015 [5]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Demon!Derek Hale, First Kiss, First Times, Happy Ending, Horns, I don't want to spoil it, Inspired by a Movie, M/M, Movie AU, Movie Spoilers, Murder, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sterek Week 2015, SterekScene, but I have to put the tags, not explicit sexual scenes, sort of, sterek scene, sterekweek2015
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-29
Updated: 2015-10-29
Packaged: 2018-07-10 15:20:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6990850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Linneus/pseuds/Linneus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is practically the movie Horns adapted into a Sterek.<br/>I had just to write the scene I had selected for the #Sterekscene of #SterekWeek2015, but I loved the movie so much that in the end I wrote all of it as a Sterek.</p><p>Hope you enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Garden Of Eden

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is the fifth work of the #SterekWeek2015 with the tag #Sterekscene.  
> I choose one scene from Horns, the one with which the movie begins.  
> If you have seen the movie I hope you'll like my adaptment of it to Sterek.  
> For those who haven't seen the movie, go watch it before reading this, because it's amazing and the story I wrote it's based on the screenplay, with parts exactly like the movie and I don't want to spoiler it to anyone, so go watch it!
> 
> The artwork is always by the fabulous @thanatosdrowofficial!
> 
> If you find any mistakes, please let me know, because as always my works don't have a beta :( I think I screwed up a lot with verbs, so sorry!  
> I tried to fix the edit, but apparently there's no way I can right now. You have to forgive me though, because it's almost 3 AM and I'm really tired. I'll edit as soon as I can!
> 
> So, BEWARE THE SPOILERS and have a good read :)
> 
> P.S: I edited it, so the mistakes should be less! I tried to fix everything, but surely I missed something this time too!

 

 

_Everyone in town always took me for an outsider._

_But I didn't care._

_The only thing that mattered was him._

 

_He was my Garden of Eden._

_And God knows how beautiful it was until that night._

_You know, no one is born evil._

_The devil himself was a fallen angel._

_But sometimes when you go through hell...the only way out is to walk deeper into the fire._

 

We were on a blanket in the middle of the woods, at the feet of the small tree house that held all ours memories together. We were laying with our feet at opposite sides and only our heads where side by side.

His fingers were in my hair, like mine were tangled in his.

“Are you horny?” Stiles asked me between kisses. 

“Yeah, I'm getting warmer,” I answered chuckling. 

“Oh. Fine.” He pouted, hiding his smile and turning his head. I kissed his cheek and his neck to coax him turn his face to me again.

“No.” he said, still trying not to laugh.

“Yes,” I said with certainty, and he turned his head to me laughing. He kissed me, his fingers caressing my scalp softly and I sighed contently ending the kiss.

“I'm gonna love you for the rest of my life.” I said seriously, looking deep into his eyes.

He propped himself on his elbow, not breaking eye contact.

“Just love me for the rest of mine,” he said softly, and kissed me again.

 

He was all I could think about, even more now that he wasn’t by my side anymore.

I kept thinking how could I have let this happen, why wasn’t I with him? Why was I so proud to not understand what he was really telling me?

Now I’m alone once more, the only thing that kept me sane, alive, happy, is gone. I spend my days getting drunk and trying to forget, forget that he is gone. My thoughts can’t escape me as the music starts playing, our song clear in my hears and even clearer in my memories.

I can see him dancing with the sunlight creating a halo all around his body as he moves. His hands move the soft fabric of the pale gown that barely covers his body, his slightly long hair following the movements of his head in waves. His smile is small, teasing, his eyes glinting with that light that I loved from the first time I saw him.

The sweet memory of his smile is erased by the voices coming from outside, surpassing even the music, calling me a murderer, accusing me of doing something like that to the person I love the most. The only one I really ever loved and I that I’ll love always.

As I got out of the house, they were all there, with cameras, microphones and posters saying all kinds of thing about me. Most of them have known me all my life but still don’t have a clue about who I am.

“Hey, Derek, what does it feel like to get away with murder?”

“Do you want to comment on the fire at the lab in Tacoma last night?”

“Have you heard that the police have a new witness?”

I never replied to the questions thrown at me by the journalists, they always tried to rile me up and it was difficult not to answer. A woman stood in front of me before I could get in my car and she looked at me as if she knew the absolute truth.

“You should ask God to save your soul for what you did to him!” she said harshly to me, convinced of her own rightness.

“I should ask the Devil to punish whoever the fuck killed him.” The answer is out of my mouth before I can stop it, and I get in the car as fast as I can.

  
“Hi, this is Peter Hale, leave a message.” The answer I got from my uncle’s phone just made me more frustrated.

“Hi, Peter, please can you meet me at my parents' house in like half an hour?” I said in a rush as I speed down the road, a lit up cigarette in my hand, “I really need to talk to you. And start picking up your phone, man. Come on.”

  
“Are you proud of me, Mom?” I said as I got out of the car, two press vans parked in front of the house right after me, “I'm so famous people follow me everywhere I go.”

“Come inside, sweetie.” My mom ushered me inside with a contrite expression and a gesture of her hand.

 

“You just can't talk to those reporters,” my father said to me as soon as we were inside, sitting at the table,

“They'll take whatever you say and just twist it around.”

“But if I don't talk to them, it looks like I have something to hide. Right?” I countered.

“And how's Peter working out for you?” he kept up, “I mean, you still think he's up to the job?”

“Yes. No, he's keeping me out of jail at least for the time being... and that's got to be some kind of triumph.” I said with frustration. 

“All right, look, I know he's your cousin and an old friend of yours... but you don't have to settle for a public defender,” my father said with exasperation, “I've got the money. I will hire you the best lawyer in Seattle.”

“Dad, every other lawyer we talked to wanted me to take a plea. Peter is the only one who believes I'm innocent.” I stated angrily. My mom stood up from the table and went to the kitchen.

“Just don't talk to any more reporters, please,” he said once more, “And don't admit anything.”

“I don't have anything to admit to, Dad.” I said incredulously.

“Look, honey,” my mom said as she came back with other food, her expression pinched, “we don't care what happened. You're our son. That's all that matters.”

I stood up, anger flared inside, and headed for the door, but my father’s voice stopped me.

“Oh, sit back down, Derek,” he said it like he’s talking to a capricious child, like my mother just didn’t implied they believed I killed him.

“No, if you think for a second...that I might have killed him, then why are you protecting me?” I threw back at him, “Because if I did anything to him, then I'm a fucking monster.”

My family doesn’t understand, I’ve loved them dearly, but now all that remains it’s a distant affection from them and a desperate, broken love on my part.

 

Even my brother, Jackson, who’s standing beside me, playing his trumpet and trying to make me understand that he will be here for me if I want him to. But I knew there was something wrong with him too.

Peter arrived just as Jackson sits down next to me; he gave me a quick hug and talked about a united front to defend me.

We talked about the lab in Tacoma, the question of the reporter still stuck in my head, and I learnt that the place burned down with the only samples from Stiles’ body that could prove my innocence. Now I’m fucked, but all Peter said is that it’s not ideal, but there’s no need to panic. It’s easy for him when nobody is calling him a murderer.

I then asked about this apparently new witness and he told me he’s trying to figure it out.

Peter has been my friend since we were young. I never really considered him as my cousin, seeing the intricate state of our kin. He has always been more like my best friend, and I was glad that he was the one taking care of this. I believed he was really the only one that knew that I was telling the truth when I said I didn’t kill him. His next sentence confirmed what I thought.

“You know, you don't have to convince me,” he said looking at me in the eyes, “Derek, I believe you.”

“If you don't think I'm capable of murder...” I almost growled back at him, “Just put me in a room with the guy who really killed him.”

***

In town is worse than ever. Even at the local bar, where the worst of scum goes, I’m not welcome. The only one there who stood up for me was Jennifer, an old friend. She flirted with me, like she always did, telling me she would be free at five if a needed a friendlier place where to get drunk.

I simply refused, not wanting to start something that would go nowhere.

***

I woke up in bed, and turning around I saw Jennifer lying next to me, we were both naked and I groaned at my stupidity. As I scrubbed my tired eyes with the pad of my fingers, flashes of the night before came to mind.

I was at the tree house when they all gathered there, to pay tribute to Stiles. Candles and sad faces all around the shrine set for him at the foot of the tree. I remember the Sheriff’s words as he too accused me of killing his only son, and those words hurt more than most because he has always been family to me. Apparently, now, to him I’m not anymore.

I remember getting down from the tree house as they all walked away, cursing and kicking at the shrine, pissing on it with desperate anger and drunken idiocy.

  
_For whatever reason, in this crazy fucked up world, I was being punished._

_When they looked at me, they saw a devil._

_And maybe I did too._

_And now I had to look the part._

 

Strange small horns appeared on my forehead that morning, and they seemed to freak out no one but me.

They all could see them, but their reaction wasn’t what I expected.

Jennifer started asking me if she could eat all the donuts, she told me she already was worthless so she wanted to become fat. I didn’t knew what to say to that, and watched as Jennifer kept eating donuts from the box. I practically ran from Jennifer’s house and went to see the doctor.

Around me, people reacted in a strange way, telling me things they usually wouldn’t tell to a stranger. When I touched a woman to stop her from hitting the old lady at the counter, I had a flash back of her memories, as she was fucked by her golf teacher and her daughter screamed for attention in the kitchen, trying to cover their noise. I had to see the doctor as soon as I could. 

The doctor wasn’t useful at all in the end. He couldn’t tell what those strange horns were, nor how to get rid of them. Like the others he was telling me things I really didn’t want to know.

I only wanted these horns to go away. They sedated me so they could saw my horns off.

 

I dreamed about the first time he saw Stiles. His warm smile and his pale face scattered with freckles.

The boy was teasing me with the reflection from his cross and capturing me attention. We were in church so my father claimed back my attention, but at the end of the Mass, I found his necklace on the church bench.

 

I dreamed about the day I won the cherry bomb and exchanged it with Peter, so he would fix the necklace and I could give it back to Stiles. I had found him in the church later, lighting up candles.

Stiles had smiled at me, letting me put the necklace back around his neck and then we had talked.

Stiles had told me about how his mom had died from cancer, but it wasn’t a pleasant subject for him, so I had let it go immediately.

I was still with Stiles when Jackson had come running to me, telling him that the cherry bomb I had given to Peter had blew up in his hand, two of his fingers replaced with fake ones now.

 

I also dreamed about the day I showed the tree house to Stiles for the first time, how we shared our first kiss there, after that I had told him the truth about Peter fixing the cross.

It was a small kiss, soft and chaste, a young kiss, young like we were.

I dreamed again of him dancing to Heroes by Bowie, how I was fascinated by his swaying body, how I couldn’t comprehend how something so beautiful was mine. How we kissed and how I undressed him, wanting to touch his skin.

Stiles’ hands on my back as I pushed him against one of the thick branches in the small house and made love to him. Stiles leg wrapped around my body as I moved and the music kept going around us.

Heated kisses and lustful moans mingling with it.

 

I woke up to the doctor and the nurse fucking and a saw planted in one of my horns.

It hurt like hell taking it off and after yelling at them, I saw my horns had gotten even bigger. I went to the church, but the priest sent me away, once again accusing me of killing him. He even suggested I could hang myself in the same place where Stiles had died; he even offered to help me do it.

 

I went to talk to Peter then, but he seemed to be the only one who couldn’t see my horns. I just supposed that the horns didn’t work with good people and left the thought like that.

My parents reacted in the same ways the others did, telling me atrocious things, so I fled from their house, hurt and without a clue of what I could do. My father had told me that it was he who had ordered to burn down the lab, along with the proof who could save me.

I discovered that Peter knew what my father has done, and considered it a blessing.

I was sick of all this people, accusing me, pretending to be on my side. I told Peter I was going to find who had killed Stiles, and with my new found abilities, maybe it wouldn’t be too hard.

***

  
After sending the reporters against each other to have an exclusive with me, and making the bartender set his pub on fire, I discovered who the new witness was and headed towards my car with determination. 

As I opened dashboard to take a cigarette I saw the small squared box sitting in there. I took it and opened it, revealing a light gold band. My thoughts went back to the night this all started, when I had told Jackson and Peter that I wanted to ask Stiles to marry me the night after, asking them to come after dinner to celebrate with us. I had been so sure that the boy would have said yes.

Instead I had found myself rejected even before I could propose, my heart broken, shattered in million pieces.

Stiles had a sad expression, almost guilty as he told me that he was moving to Los Angeles and I hadn’t understood at first, but Stiles had made it clear that he thought that we should stop seeing each other.

I had been so shocked I had said things I never even thought, accusing Stiles of cheating and the night ended in tears and in a drunken stupor for me. I had driven away, angry. The next morning I was at the harbour when one of the police cars stopped next to mine, the officer knocking on the glass and waking me up.

That was how I discovered Stiles had been killed that night, and that they thought it was me who did it.

Now I was at that same diner, looking for the waiter who had served them that night. Kate, that was her name.

She said to me without shame how she lied to the police about me and Stiles, about how I had supposedly screamed at him, hit him and dragged him away in my car.

After that I went to my brother, remembering he was there too that night and wanting answers from him. Jackson had a show that night and I waited until it was over to talk to my brother.

I went outside to smoke and noticed a snake slithering around the place.

Jackson met me outside and I could already see the guilt in his eyes when I mentioned the waiter, and Jackson blurted out that Stiles had left with him that night.

So, he had lied to me when he had told me that he hadn’t seen Stiles that night.

Jackson seeing the look on my face was quick to precise that he hadn’t killed him. That’s how I punched my brother, pushing him onto the hood of my car, and read his memories.

 

I saw Jackson in his car, with a crying Stiles in the passenger seat, as he tried to understand what had happened between him and Derek. I saw Jackson complimenting Stiles, like he was hitting on him, and the boy asked to be let out of the car, tears clinging to his eyelashes.

Stiles opened the door and Jackson slowed down so he wouldn’t hurt himself. The boy walked into the woods, under the rain as Jackson kept calling him back, telling him he’d wait there for him. My brother went back to the car, sliding in and taking one of his pills and he passed out.

Jackson woke up in the morning, is hand bloody and a big rock on his passenger seat. He was surprised and disgusted.

He had gotten out of the car, entering the woods to look for Stiles and finding him dead at the feet of the tree house. He was scared and crying as he used his shirt to envelope the bloodied rock, throwing it in the sea.

I pushed him away against a lamppost, wanting to know what he had done to Stiles.

The only reply I got was that he hadn’t done anything, because he loved him too. I couldn’t reply because in that moment a police car arrived.

 

They arrested me, but Peter was able to let me out and I told him what I had discovered. Peter couldn’t understand how I would know all of this all of a sudden and when I told him it was because of the horns, he rolled his eyes.

I noticed something around Peter’s neck, and tugged out of his shirt Stiles’ necklace.

“Why are you wearing Stiles’ cross?” I asked him.

“It's not Stiles’. It's mine,” Peter answered, “I've had it forever.”

“You think I'm an idiot?” I replied hastily, “You think I don't know what Stiles’ cross looks like?”

“Yeah, it's his,” Peter admitted, reluctantly, “He gave it to me.”

“Why would he do that?”

“Derek, it was...”

“What?”

“There's things about Stiles you don't know,” Peter said, swallowing heavily, “There's things about Stiles and me that I haven't told you.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean for anything to happen.”

“You were the one he...” I felt my voice already wavering, my breath coming in short pants.

“Derek, come on,” Peter pleaded.

“You're the reason he was gonna fucking...” I started to walk away from him.

“We didn't want to hurt you,”

“If you didn't want to hurt me you're doing a fucking lousy job!” the betrayal hit me square in the chest, my heart felt constricted at how the two person I thought closest to me could have done something like that behind my back.

I could hear Peter apologies as I walked away from him, hands in my pockets, trying to contain the anger inside me. I now remembered all the moments Peter was with us, how Stiles was around him, even though I had always thought…

 

I ended up at Stiles house, walking up the front steps and knocking at the door. The sheriff appeared behind me with a shotgun pointed at me.

“Get the hell off my property.” The man said with a harsh voice, but the sadness of his loss was clear to me.

“I know that I'm the last person you want to see right now...” I told him slowly, “but you're the only person I can ask about this.”

“I have got nothing to say to you,” the sheriff replied, “I should shoot you right in the heart.”

“No.” I said, starting to climb down the few front steps, “If you really wanted to kill me, you'd have already done it. I know that. These days, I bring out the worst in people.”

“What I want is for you to tell me the truth about what you did to my son,” the sheriff told me, pushing me back with the head of the shotgun, “And then I want to kill you.”

“What I need to know is did Stiles say anything to you about leaving me or about being with somebody else?” I asked, my words hurting me as they left my mouth.

“You got some kind of nerve. Coming out here and asking me if my son,” the sheriff pushed me again, “was unfaithful to you.”

“But could you...”

“Are you out of your goddamn mind?” the sheriff screamed at me.

“Look, you're the only person he would have told because you're the only one who loved him like I did.”

“Don't you fucking dare say we're the same,” The sheriff told me shouting, stepping up and facing me completely, “When I was watching the cancer devour my wife's insides...the only saving grace was I thought that was the worst thing that would ever happen to me. But boy was I wrong.”

“John, please, you have to believe me. I love him,” I pleaded, “But now I don't know if I even really knew who he was.”

“You think there is a chance in hell I am gonna say one word to you about my son?” the man said right to my face, “If you're looking for forgiveness or compassion or understanding, go talk to a goddamn priest! I know you killed him.”

The sheriff paused looking him deep in the eyes. 

“And I hope you die. I hope you die...” he said with fervour, “scared and helpless in the dirt just like my Stiles did.”

“I'm sorry.” I told him, “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come.”

“Get off my porch or I swear I will shoot you.” 

I went away, and once again, I tried to get rid of my horns. I found myself surrounded by snakes.

The snakes slithered up my body, the fork I was using before to keep them away had a completely different meaning now that I looked at it, and in that moment, I understood.

 

***

 

_Sometimes God works in mysterious ways._

_The horns had revealed so much already._

_Now I can use them to find his killer and set things right._

 

I went back to the diner, taking my revenge on the woman who had lied about me being the killer. The snakes did their work and I left her there, suffering with her vanity.

The same was for the two police officers who kept following me, accusing me of murder and wanting to throw me in jail without a second thought. One of them, Scott, had been my friend in the past, but now he was just like the others.

I compelled him and his partner, Isaac, to let go of those closeted minds of theirs, and they ended up all against each other and I knew how much they would hate it in the morning, because they had been raised with the certainty that it was a sin. I wasn’t like them, I was never ashamed of my love for Stiles. It was just something human and most of our community supported us, but there were always some bigots.

I left them there, going away with a satisfied expression.

I went to my parents’ house, finding Jackson there.

Me and Jackson argued about Stiles. Jackson had been too much of a coward to stand up for his little brother, or to even call and ambulance when he had found Stiles’ body in the woods that day.

Jackson told me that he didn’t do any of it because he was my brother and he didn’t want the police to think he was helping me. He wanted just to save his own ass and I told him I hated him.

My brother told me that I should kill him, but I won’t, even if I had every right to.

I just order my brother to finish off all the drugs he has, making him see everything that happened to Stiles and live through it.

  
_Punishing Jackson was the hardest thing I've ever done. But forcing him to face his demons was the only way I could help him._

 

Peter arrived at the harbour where I was smoking and thinking about my next move.

“Jesus Christ, Derek,” he said coming towards me, “I looked for you everywhere.”

“Look, get out of here before I do something we're both gonna regret.”

“We gotta move past this,” he told me getting closer, “This is not what Stiles wanted.”

“So you're the expert on what Stiles wanted now?”

“I was never gonna tell you anything.”

“No. So how long was it going on between you two?” I asked stepping away from him.

“You don't want to know anything,” Peter replied.

“Oh, I need to understand.”

“It was just a couple months,” Peter shrugged, “He was moving out to California. We wanted to figure out if it was real before we told anyone.”

“And so when he got killed, did you think it was me?” I asked, “Or like did you think that I found out about you and lost control?”

“If I thought you had anything to do with this, I wouldn't be helping you,” Peter said.

“Okay, well, I don't want any more of your help.”

“Yeah, I'm the only one who can help you. I'm gonna prove that waitress is lying. I'm gonna get Jackson to confess to the police,”

“Just fucking go, Peter.” I said angrily, “Leave me alone. And don't fucking touch me!” I pushed Peter against the hood of my car, grabbing the collar of his shirt, my fingers tangling with the cross’ chain. The necklace broke, and I let go of Peter, keeping the golden chain in my hand.

“The cross, dude! Fuck!” Peter said as he slid down of the hood, his eyes widening as he looked up at me, “Are those horns?”

“Goddamn right, they're horns.” I spat out, grabbing my fork and pointing it at Peter, “I'm glad you can finally see them. So now, you have to tell me the truth. Stiles’ cross can't protect you anymore.”

“Why should I tell you anything?” Peter asked, eyeing me warily.

“You're not gonna be able to help it.”

“I never meant to kill him,” Peter said, after he stood up.

“You fuck!” I growled, hitting him with my fork and sending him lying on the ground, once again pointing the fork at his chest, “You fuck.”

“I didn't mean to do it, Derek,” Peter continued, his hands gripping the fork’s sides to keep it away from his face. “I loved him just as much as you. I'm the one who fixed his cross. He should have been with me.”

“Oh, you sure as shit fooled me,” I growled again, my rage coming out of me in waves, “I always thought you spent your whole life trying to be good!”

“I try and control myself.”

“But you saved my life when we were kids. You pulled me out of the water right here. You're the only reason I'm alive!” I yelled at him.

“It was the stupidest mistake I ever made,” Peter admitted, and he continued laughing bitterly, “I should have let you drown. Then I'd be with him now.”

“That's a fucking lie!”

I straddled Peter’s chest, wrapping my hand around his throat. Peter inhaled with difficulty and the vision started in my head.

 

Stiles was walking near the harbour, Peter behind him as Stiles explained to him how he thought Derek was going to propose and the fact that he had discovered something that led him to the conclusion could never marry him. Stiles and Peter were standing in front of each other. Stiles face was sad, Peter was hesitant as he approached him, like he couldn’t believe this was really happening.

I watched him question Stiles and the boy giving him a kiss on the forehead after Peter had agreed to be there for him at the diner that night.

The vision ended, Peter and I looked at each other for a few seconds, and then the second vision started.

 

It was raining hard, Peter was in his car outside the diner, watching him and Stiles argue.

He followed Stiles and Jackson, driving after Jackson’s car and parked behind it, seeing the man inside passed out.

He went after Stiles in the woods. 

“Terry?” Stiles asked, covering his eyes with his harm as the light of a flashlight hit his face.

“It's me.”

“Oh, Peter, wow, you frightened me,” Stiles said shaking for the cold and the scare, fumbling with the sleeves of his hoodie.

“What are you doing out here?” Peter asked, walking towards him, “Come on, let's get some dry clothes on you. I'll drive you home. Come on.”

“No, No.” Stiles shook his head firmly, “I want to be alone right now.”

“You'll get sick.”

“No.”

“You okay?” Peter asked with a concerned voice, caressing his face, and Stiles began to cry.

“Hey, hey, hey.” Peter tried to soothe him, hugging him close, “Hey. Hey. Everything's okay.” He kept saying, he kissed his forehead murmuring, “I got you. I got you.”

Stiles stepped back, still crying, Peter kept caressing his cheek and kissed him suddenly.

“What? What are you doing?” Stiles asked between tears and he stepped further away from Peter.

“There's nobody here,” Peter stated, looking around, “It's just us.”

“You're joking?” Stiles asked, shocked.

“I mean, we don't have to pretend anymore. It's just...” he looked around once again, “It's fine.”

He covered the few steps that separated him from Stiles and kissed him again.

“No, No. No. Stop it!” Stiles said angrily, trying to get Peter off of him, losing his jacket in the struggle, and backing away from the man, “Don't! Don't do that. Just get off me!”

“I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I just...” Peter said with his brow furrowed, “I've been waiting for this for such a long time. I can't believe this is finally happening.” He stepped forward once more, “I need to touch you.”

“No.” Stiles said quickly, walking backwards as Peter kept going towards him.

“Feel you, honey.”

“No, look. Listen,” Stiles tried, desperate, “you are Derek's best friend. You're my friend. You're my friend. Please, don't you understand anything?”

“I understand everything. I understand everything,” Peter repeated with certainty, “Every time the three of us hang out together...it's like there's this elephant in the room. 'Cause we're so clearly supposed to be together, but nobody says anything. You know?”

Stiles looked at him in confusion, trying to back away further, but his back was pressed against the small wooden stair of the tree house, and all he could do was listen to Peter.

“And we stare at each other. Stiles, we stare at each other,” he advanced again at Stiles.

“No, let go of me. Don't!” Stiles said, raising his voice and pushing him back, “You don't know the first thing about what I'm going through right now.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Peter asked, “What about all the signals you've been sending me?”

“What?” Stiles was extremely confused as he asked it, “Signals, what?”

“Stiles.” Peter said, like it was something obvious. And Stiles’ eyes widened slightly in comprehension.

“Oh my god, you thought that I broke up with Derek so that...” his voice was incredulous, “No. No.”

“But you know you love me,” Peter said surely, taking a step forward, “I love you. I love you.”

“I love Derek so much,” Stiles replied looking at him straight in the eyes and Peter shoved his face to the side, knocking it against the ladder step.

“Ow!” Stiles moaned, but continued undismayed, “I love him more than the world.”

 

“That's the last thing he said,” I realized, coming back to myself, stepping away from Peter and giving him my back, “that he loved me.”

I didn’t notice Peter get up and grab a thick, heavy chain. The other man hit me with it, sending me on the ground.   
“You want to know what happened, Derek?” he said, hitting me again on the back.

I could almost imagine the scene, as Peter narrated how he had told Stiles to shut up and had hit him, and Stiles had kept declaring his love for Derek. How he had pushed him on the ground and Stiles had pleaded him to stop, how he had called out to Jackson, for help, impotent against the strength of Peter’s body, as he had hit him again and kissed him forcefully.

“I gave him what he asked for,” Peter said, with another swing of the chain against me.

Peter told him Stiles had kept pleading him to stop, how he had tried to let Peter see that it was him, it was Stiles, his friend, and how he had kept going in spite of it, pushing him into the ground, settled between his forcefully spread legs.

“I fucked his tight little hole,” Peter continued, cruelly, “He tried to push me away, but I was already inside. He bit my hand when a tried to shut his stupid pleas, so I bashed his face in with a rock. Then before going away I stole his cross, leaving him there to draw his last breath. Your brother was passed out in the car, it was extremely easy for me to plant the evidence on him,”

Peter tried to hit me again with the chain, but I avoided the strike, getting up. Peter continued hitting, bashing my car’s window and then hitting me in the face repeatedly.

I tried to crawl back to my fork, needing something to counteract with, but Peter kept hitting me with no mercy.

 

“You know what?” Peter said, “Love made devils of us both.” He grabbed me by one of my horns, dragging me towards the car, “The way I see it, you confessed to me...and you were so overwhelmed with guilt...” he pushed me inside it, “that you killed yourself.” 

“So much... I always wanted to try this,” he said with a laugh, emptying a can of gasoline on me and on the inside of the car, “It's gonna be fun. It's gonna be fun.”

He stepped back and lit a match, throwing it at me without a hint of guilt.

The whole car and I became a ball of fire and Peter pushed the door closed with his foot when I tried to open it. I managed to pull the handbrake, and the car fell into the sea.

***

“Mr. Hale committed suicide earlier today. We have recovered his vehicle. Hale's lawyer Peter Hale was the only witness at the scene. Mr. Hale confessed his crimes to his lawyer and then killed himself.”

“Is there any validity to the reports that no body was found in the vehicle?”

“Any and all reports originating outside the Beacon Hills P.D. should be considered hearsay and conjecture at this time, nothing more. No further questions.”

“Breaking news this evening from the police force in the Stiles Stilinski case. You have heard tonight that Derek Hale has reportedly driven his vehicle into the bay. Although as of now, no body has been recovered.”

***

“Well, one thing I'll say in my favour...” I said, stepping out of the water, “I am fucking hard to kill.”

My skin was now red-burned flesh and my clothes ripped in many places.

“Why the hell aren't you dead?” Stiles’ father said when I approached the porch of his house, my fork helping me walk straight.

“The truth is I don't know the answer to that question myself,” I said sincerely, stopping at the bottom of the stairs.

“I have prayed for so long for you to die...” John said to me, “but when I saw the news on the TV...it didn't help one bit.”

“I didn't kill him, Sheriff Stilinski,” I told him shakily, stepping up on the stairs.

“But you know who did it, don't you?” John asked and I nodded, “You gotta tell me.”

“What will you do if I tell you?” I asked.

“You know what I'll do,” the sheriff said pointing to his shotgun.

“But this is my job,” I said, climbing one more step towards the man, “People say you should always do the right thing. Sometimes there is no right thing. And then...” I stepped further up, “Well then you just have to pick the sin you can live with.”

 

“Why don't you come inside,” John asked, and I followed him.

“Yesterday I was wandering around the house and I found this,” the man said when we reach Stiles’ room. He opened a drawer and took out something, “I thought maybe I should give it to the police, but...that didn't feel right,” he extended his hand, offering me a key, “He wanted you to have this.”

“Thank you,” I said, taking the key with a small paper attached to it. It says ‘for Derek’. “And there's something I would like to give you,” I said, and it’s only fair after he gave me this. “Here.”

I gave Stiles’ father his cross.

“Stiles’ mother, she gave this to him just before she...” he said taking the cross, “You know, son, I think...I think you need this even more than I do. I think you need him to keep you safe.”

I took back the cross and put it on, and as I closed the little hook, I saw surprise on John’s face.

“Well now...” John said, smiling slightly, “I guess maybe that's some kind of blessing after all.”

 

I touched my face and found it smooth, and as I runs my fingers higher, I found that my horns were gone too. I couldn’t help but feel relieved, even through the shock.

***

 _The horns weren't a curse, but a blessing. They had guided me this far_ _._

_And when I put on his cross...I could feel him protecting me again._

 

I went back to the tree house, where what Stiles had left me was waiting. I climbed the wooden ladder and with the key that Stiles’ father had given me, I unlocked the small hatch on the floor, where we used to keep our blankets and our food. I had told Stiles that we could put there our treasures the first time I showed the tree house to him.

There was the small rectangular can that we had put there a long time ago, collecting in there the things we thought most precious, but when I opened it, I found a letter with my name on the outside on top of everything else.

I opened it quickly, and when I saw that it was written in Morse code a big smile crossed my face, even as tears threatened to fall from my eyes.

 

_“Dear Derek..._

_you'll never read this while I'm alive. I'm not even sure I want you to read it after I'm dead._

_I think you're gonna ask me to marry you soon. You don't know how much I want to say yes. But I can't._

_The thing is, Derek, I'm very sick. The sort of cancer I have is the kind that runs in families. I saw my mother go through it... and I saw what it did to my father._

_If I tell you I'm sick, you're just going to want to marry me even more._

_And I'll be weak and say yes._

_Then you'll give up your future and be shackled to me... as I go through hell and die anyway._

_I won't put you through it._

_I love you too much._

_My plan is to hurt you, just enough to push you away._

_And hopefully one day you can forgive me... and you will move on to someone else._

_You'll have children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren. You will go for long walks in the woods._

_On one of these walks, when you're very old...you'll find yourself at a tree, with a house in its branches._

_I'll be waiting for you there._

_I'll be waiting by candlelight in our tree house... shining the light of my cross into your eyes._

_The first message I ever sent you._

_Us._

_I love you, Derek Hale._

_Yours, Stiles.”_

 

I cried as I read the letter, understanding and even more love than I had ever felt possible bursting from my heart, mixed with pain so strong for the loss of the only person I had always loved.

The only person that had truly loved me, until the very end.

***

I went to see Jackson at the hospital, telling him it was all Peter’s fault. Jackson wanted to go with me after Peter, but he was too weak. I understood, but I asked him to not follow me, for our parent’s sake.

 

I went to Peter’s house, and after asking him if he remembered anything, I asked him to go for a walk in the woods.

I took him in front of the tree house, and as I was there once again, I tried to contain my rage towards the man behind me.

 

“Why'd you bring us here?” Peter asked.

“You know why,” Derek said, turning to face him, “Because this is where you killed Stiles.”

“What happened to you?” Peter walked around me, towards the shrine of flowers at the feet of the tree, “You lost your mind?”

“Things are gonna go a lot easier for both of us if you don't lie to me,” Derek said.

“Derek...I'm your best friend. You've known me your whole life,” Peter told me, “Do you think I had something to do with this?”

“Believe me, all I want to do is kill you,” I retorted, anger raising, I tried to stay calm, “But I am trying to be human. I am trying to be the kind of man Stiles wanted me to be. And so, I am giving you this chance to do the right thing. We are gonna go down to the police station.”

“Okay,” Peter scoffed.

“You are gonna turn yourself in.”

“Keep your hands where I can see them, Peter,” Scott’s voice came from behind Peter, his shotgun pointed at him, “Don't do anything stupid.”

“Oh, Jackson,” I exhaled in concern as I saw my brother coming out from the trees.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Jackson?” Peter spat.

“Jackson came to talk to me just now,” Scott said, “Told me some things about the night that Stiles died.”

“Anything he said, he's just trying to save his own ass,” Peter said.

“Go fuck yourself,” Jackson retorted.

“Yeah, fuck you too,” Peter countered.

“You told everybody that Derek confessed to you and then killed himself. At least one of those things isn't true,” Scott continued, “So now I'm wondering, what else you were lying to me about.”

“Fuck,” Peter said, “I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I have to- Okay.”

Peter had made a move to get closer to me in his apology, but Scott had put himself between us, shotgun still aimed at Peter.

“I didn't mean to hurt him,” he said, “It was a mistake. I'm sorry. I'm sorry,” he raised his hands up in defeat, “Okay. I'm gonna do the right thing. Okay,” he started to turn around slowly, “Okay, I'm gonna fix all of this, okay?” he said to me.

“You're doing good,” Scott said, lowering his shotgun slowly, and stepping towards him, guiding him with it pushed to his back.

“Okay,” Peter said, exhaling harshly.

“That's right,” Scott said in a appeasing voice, “We've been friends a long time.”

At Scott next step, Peter stepped backwards, elbowing him in the nose. He pushed him on the ground, punching him in the face with ferocity. He took his shotgun and aimed it at me.

  
Jackson ran at him, but Peter shot him in his left thigh, and Jackson fell with a shout. I used my fork to try and avert the shotgun from aiming at my face, and when Scott stood up and tried to act against Peter, he shoot. Scott was extremely close; the hard blow went right to his face, blowing up almost all of it.

Jackson and Derek’s faces were scrunched up in horror, but Peter watched me and then started to laugh at what he had just done.

He released the shotgun from the fork, and pointed it at Jackson once more.

“Back the fuck up,” he said panting, “Back the fuck up. Okay. Okay. Okay.”

“I'm so sorry, Stiles,” I murmured, grasping the cross on my neck, “I'll see you soon.”

 

I tugged and as the necklace left my neck, two candid wings popped out from my shoulder blades, pushing me up from the ground a few meters. The wings caught fire, and I screamed in pain as I fell.

My whole body was now on fire, the horns had reappeared on my head, bigger than before. My skin was completely cracked, like solidifying lava on an active volcano. My inside burned like I was made of it.

Peter watched me in horror and confusion and he shoot at me when I took a step forward.

I could hear Jackson’s pleas, but it was too late for me now, neither Jackson nor I could do anything about it.

Peter kept shooting until he finished the bullets, and I was right in front of him. Peter went on his knees, and pleaded me to spare him. It was a trick though, because he used the shotgun to hit my legs, then grabbed my fork and impaled me repeatedly with it.

I fell on my knees, the burning liquid I was made of gushing outside the wound on my chest.

Peter smirked, throwing the fork on the side, sure of his victory.

I charged him with a growl, one of my horns piercing through Peter’s stomach, just under his sternum. I threw him on a tree and watched him as he crawled on his knees, his hand going to the large hole on his stomach and blood dribbling from him mouth.

I saw Peter turn his face towards the snakes coming to him, but the man couldn’t do nothing to escape the grip they had on his body. They wrapped themselves around his body, and I watched with pleasure as Peter realized what was going to happen when another snake slithered towards him.

The snake stood at the height of Peter’s wound and with a quick dart, inserted itself into his body, coming out from his back to crawl onto his shoulder and then inside his mouth.

Peter’s body shook in spasms as the snake made his way into his body, and he fell on the ground, alive until the very end of the snake’s tail disappeared into him.

After he died, I turned back to the tree house, my brother helping me reach the feet of it despite his wounded leg.

 

I laid there, panting harshly, Jackson held my hand with Stiles’ cross in it. I felt the burning sensation inside me slowly dissolve and I could hear Stiles’ laughter coming from the tree house, the shining light of his cross reflecting in my eyes. Us.

My body turned completely to ashes as I returned to my beloved.

 

_In the end I embraced the horns._

_Like an angel who fell to earth...I became a devil one last time._

_But revenge is all consuming._

_And my time has come to return to you...so we can be together again._

***

“No, no, I swear,” I said to Stiles as they laid on their blanket in the middle of the woods, at the feet of the small tree house. “I mean, if this isn't paradise, I don't know what is.”

We were laying with our feet at opposite sides and only our heads where side by side.

His fingers were in my hair, like mine were tangled in his. His laughter was beautiful as he listened to my silly words.

“Are you horny?” Stiles asked me between kisses.

“Yeah, I'm getting warmer,” I answered chuckling.

“Oh. Fine.” He pouted, hiding his smile and turning his head. I kissed his cheek and his neck to coax him to turn his face to me again.

“No.” he said, still trying not to laugh.

“Yes,” I said with certainty, and he turned his head to me laughing. He kissed me, his fingers caressing my scalp softly and I sighed contently ending the kiss.

“I'm gonna love you for the rest of my life.” I said seriously, looking deep into his eyes.

He propped himself on his elbow, not breaking eye contact.

“Just love me for the rest of mine,” he said softly, and kissed me again.

 

\- The End -


End file.
